Drinks On Me
by Luna Darkside
Summary: So the Great Detective of the East walks into a bar and sees the Kaitou Kid drowning himself in alcohol. The rest, as they say, is history. /ShinKai & KaiShin/
1. Chapter 1

_Urk. This is various kinds of terrible, but the idea was starting to get hard to ignore, so..._

_Warnings include shounen-ai (because, you know, ShinKai/KaiShin), grammar mistakes / issues because I'm too lazy to proofread, and cliche sappiness (because I'm just uncool like that)._

_Hope you enjoy? - Luna_

**Drinks On Me**

Shinichi wasn't sure what he was expecting when he was dragged into the nearest bar after the successful conclusion of a murder/kidnapping case with Hattori, other than perhaps Hattori making a fool of himself after two shots and/or ranting loudly about his latest argument with Kazuha.

But he definitely wasn't expecting to see the _Kaitou_ _Kid _of all people sitting moodily at the bar, downing Long Island iced teas with an expression that brought to mind sad kittens and kicked puppies.

If that wasn't weird enough, Kid didn't even look up when Shinichi walked in, electing to stare down into his glass with the broodingly dark aura of an angsty orphaned superhero.

Hattori, who was hovering behind Shinichi, sharply kneed Shinichi in the back of the leg when Shinichi didn't move from where he was frozen in the doorway. "Hey, Kudou? Anytime you'd like to get out of the way, you could, y'know. Do that."

"Uh, right." Shinichi stumbled away from the doorway, eyes still glued to Kid. Kid was motionless, still so intently focused that he appeared to be reading a novel located at the bottom of his glass, and Shinichi edged towards one of the tables far, far away from the bar.

Not because he was _scared_ of Kid, or anything like that – he just… didn't know how he'd react if Kid spotted him. Shinichi kind of doubted that Kid wanted Shinichi to see him like this, in his civilian form and face all storm-cloudy, and Shinichi, despite how he generally treated Kid, didn't want to encroach upon his personal life. It was one of the unspoken rules of their relationship – heists were fair game, but otherwise, they respected each other's privacy.

Apparently, though, Hattori had no intention of following Shinichi to the far side of the bar, because he was an unobservant idiot, and loudly asked, "Where are you going, Kudou?" right as Shinichi tiptoed past Kid's back.

Resisting the urge to facepalm (_why _was he friends with this idiot?), Shinichi's head whipped around, spelling murder by burning at the stake as Hattori blinked obliviously at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Kudou? Isn't it better to sit here? It's closer, isn't it?"

No, but seriously, _why was he friends with this idiot?_

Storing the thought away for when he had more time to question unanswerable questions of the universe, Shinichi bit his lip as he rubbed at his face. Fortunately, Kid somehow (?) seemed to have not noticed Hattori's comment and hadn't even looked up from his drink, which was somehow both comforting and disturbing at the same time. Comforting for the obvious reason that it saved Shinichi some embarrassment, but disturbing because of Kid was this oblivious to his surroundings, there had to be something wrong.

Frowning tiredly, Shinichi let out a long sigh – what was the right thing to do in this situation? – before removing his hands from his face. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it," he muttered, and Hattori's eyebrows only rose up his forehead.

The Osakan didn't comment any further, though, just shrugged and took a seat at the nearest table. Shinichi had barely settled into the chair across from him when Hattori's cell phone vibrated at his hip.

Hattori groaned as he flipped open his phone to read the message, expression turning stormy. "Damn it, Kazuha," he mumbled, pawing at the keypad irritably, presumably to type back a snarky response.

Shinichi watched with mild amusement as Hattori's phone gave a faint _bzzt _in his hands, approximately two seconds after he'd hit the send button, and Hattori's face only darkened as he typed another reply.

This went on for several minutes before Hattori, looking about as cheerful as an enraged rhinoceros, slammed his hands against the table. "_Dammit_!"

"I assume Toyama-san wants you back home?"

"She does indeed, because she can't even _trust _me to go to a bar with my best friend and not be checking out some random girl," Hattori growled, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. "Sorry, Kudou."

"No, I understand." Shinichi silently wondered if he needed to subtly recommend a couples' therapist to them.

Probably. And maybe not subtly.

Muttering darkly to himself, Hattori stalked out of the bar, leaving Shinichi shaking his head after him. He pitied the poor man – he was so desperately whipped.

With a sigh, the detective dropped his face into his hands. Now that Hattori was gone, he couldn't help but stare at Kid's back, the only part of the phantom thief he could see.

He observed two things: One, there were knots along Kid's shoulders that were visible even from across a bar.

And two, Kid had a _very _nice back, all shapely muscle and smooth curves. Did he work out?

_Oh God_. Shinichi nearly banged his head against the table. Yes, it had been a long time since he had been in a relationship – how many years had it been since he'd dated Ran? – but _Kid_? Thinking _Kid,_ the world's most annoying, smirky criminal, was attractive was very, um. Not good.

Except, Shinichi thought dimly as Kid straightened as he reached across the bar to retrieve another drink from the bartender and the muscles in his back rippled underneath his frankly scandalous shirt, Kid _was _attractive. Very attractive. Despite that he was currently downing what appeared to be his twelfth Long Island iced tea.

And _okay_, maybe Shinichi had always thought that, in the back of his mind, but seeing Kid out of his usual environment was, well, very… interesting?

Oh good God.

Shinichi let his head fall to the table with a clunk.

He was abruptly pulled from his attempts to convince himself that Kid was not attractive(_Kid was _not _attractive, Kid was _not _attractive, dammit his back muscles were nice – _nonono_, Kid was _not attractive) when someone tapped him on the shoulder and Shinichi looked up into the concerned face of one of the bar's few waitresses. "Er, Kudou-san?" she asked, penciled eyebrows drawn together in worry. "Are you all right?"

_Oh yes, perfectly all right – just dealing with the fact that Kid has distracting back muscles even when he's drowning himself in alcohol, most likely out of depression._

Instead of verbalizing that, for the obvious reason that the waitress would probably call an ambulance, Shinichi just smiled as disarmingly as possible. "I'm fine, Chisa-san. Just a long day at work."

"Oooh, was it a difficult case? You've got to tell me about it some time," the waitress, Chisa, chirruped brightly, flashing a lipstick smile, and Shinichi nodded noncommittally. He'd frequented this bar for long enough that he knew the staff fairly well, and Chisa was nice enough, if not somewhat coquettish.

"So what do you want tonight, Kudou-san?" Chisa asked, producing an order pad out of who knows where, and Shinichi opened his mouth, about to ask for his usual bourbon on the rocks, but he stopped short when he gaze flickered to the bar and he caught sight of a large, tattooed man petting Kid's back.

My_ back muscles_, Shinichi thought indignantly, then mentally smacked himself. And _now _he was getting possessive. Over Kid's back muscles.

He _really _needed help.

But judging from the way Kid kept flinching away from the man's touch, Kid probably needed it more than he did. At this very moment, at least.

Casting an apologetic smile at Chisa, Shinichi stood and carefully navigated his way through the tables and chairs to the bar. As he approached, he heard the tattooed man cooing, "What do you say, gorgeous? Wanna head back to my place?"

"No, not really," Kid mumbled, the words almost unnoticeably slurred. He shrugged out of the man's grasp; the man relocated his hand more firmly to Kid's hip. Kid stiffened visibly.

"C'mon, sweet thing," the man drawled. "We'll have _fun_. Lots of it. You'll like it, I promise." His tone became less genial, taking on an edge. "Don't say no."

That was when Shinichi rather exuberantly swung an arm around Kid's shoulders and sang, "_There _you are, babe!"

The look on Kid's face was absolutely priceless, Shinichi decided, as he blinked blankly at Shinichi, all wide indigo eyes and parted lips and tousled dark hair, and Shinichi wanted to remember it for a long, long time.

Meanwhile, the man had donned an expression of irritation. "You said you didn't have a boyfriend," he grunted at Kid, who was still staring at Shinichi.

Shinichi pouted.

Kid's jaw dropped.

"How could you tell him that, Kicchan?" Shinichi squealed, and Kid was just about gaping at this point. "When we're in _love_?"

He punctuated his question with a loud wail, which he buried in the side of Kid's neck, right above his collar. Kid smelled faintly of chocolate and soap, and Shinichi vaguely wondered why.

"Uh…" Kid prodded at Shinichi's shoulder before turning back to the man. "Right. This is my boyfriend, tan – I mean, Shin. So… maybe you should just go."

From what Shinichi could see, though his view was obscured by the curl of Kid's hair at his nape, the man's face had turned disgruntled as he removed his hand from Kid's waist. He gave a small _tch _sound before exiting the bar, shoulders slumped and strides large and hurried.

Once he was out of sight, Shinichi quickly removed himself from Kid. "Sorry about that," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I saw you getting harassed, so I thought I'd help out."

Kid snorted, tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not a girl, tantei-kun. I don't need to be saved. And not by you." He glanced around the bar. "How many minutes are you giving me before you call the police?"

"First of all, I'm not going to call the police. This isn't a heist, so you're off limits. And second of all, I didn't help you because I somehow convinced myself that you were a girl," Shinichi answered crisply. "I saw you when I came in here. You didn't look too great, so I was worried." He jerked his head in the direction of Kid's glass. "What is that, your ninth?"

"Fourth. And I'm a heavyweight, so I'll be fine." Nevertheless, Kid pushed the glass out of the way as he folded his hands in front of his mouth. His gaze slid towards Shinichi hesitantly. "You were _worried _about me?"

"Yes."

"About _me_?"

It took Shinichi a moment to realize what Kid was implying. He felt a pang of annoyance. "Look, just because we're not exactly the closest friends in the universe doesn't mean I'm not allowed to care. Even if you won't admit it, we're not enemies anymore. Not after this long." He folded his arms across his chest and looked away, trying to will away the flush that rose in his cheeks. "You look as if you need someone to talk to, and I've got time. So tell me what's wrong."

For a moment, Kid didn't say anything. Shinichi hazarded a glance over at him to find that Kid was regarding him steadily, eyes unexpectedly focused and clear.

"I see," Kid finally said, turning back to his drink. He lifted the glass to his lips before murmuring, "Do you really want to know what's wrong?"

"Uh, why else would I have asked?"

"Right." Kid's smile was faint as he swirled the melting ice in his glass. He leveled a solid stare at Shinichi. "Hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

Shinichi pulled out the stool beside his. "I was hoping you'd tell me about that."

* * *

><p><strong>And we're going to cut it off here, because I'm a terrible person like that. This might become a twoshot, if anyone's actually interested in seeing a continuation.<strong>

**On a somewhat related note, I'm trying to write a Halloween fic, so... yeah, I'll try to post that on Friday.**

**Until then, thanks for reading, my dears (drop me a review?), and I'll see you soon! *waves* - Luna**


	2. Chapter 2

_SO. Funny story about this chapter - I kind of forgot where I was going with this when I wrote this part, so... it went in a different direction and now I'm not sure if it feels very complete. KILL ME._

_Uh... hope you enjoy...? - Luna_

**Drinks On Me **| _Part Two_

Kaito had come to this bar with the intention of drinking until he didn't remember his name. He had come with the intention of downing as many Long Island iced teas as it took before his chest stopped feeling as if he had inhaled a combination of embers and pepper. He had come with the intention of waking up with the world's worst headache and a dry mouth in some deserted alleyway tomorrow morning without the faintest idea how'd he ended up there.

He had not come with the intention of accidentally meeting tantei-kun. And then subsequently pouring his heart out to tantei-kun. Because that would've been completely ridiculous – tantei-kun despised him, as far as Kaito had known, and Kaito, well… he didn't _mind _tantei-kun, but he wouldn't really call them the best of friends. They didn't really interact outside of heists, for obvious reasons.

Yet here he was, Kaito thought dryly, as he threw back the dregs of his fifth drink and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, laying himself bare to the last person on the planet he'd expected to meet in this place.

Funny how things worked out sometimes.

He leveled a gaze at the counter. If he stared hard enough, he could make out the dull grain of the wood. "And so that's what happened."

"I see." Kudou looked pensive as he leaned onto one elbow. "So you're telling me that your best friend is Inspector Nakamori's daughter, and she found out that you're actually Kid last week?"

"I suppose that's the abridged version, but yes," Kaito answered sardonically, rubbing at his eyes. The room was starting to feel several degrees too warm, and the colorful array of bottles on the wall in front of him were starting to blur into one technicolor smear – the alcohol was probably finally starting to take effect, he realized. He let his forehead land on the countertop, a sigh escaping him.

Aoko's discovery of Kaito's identity had been fairly anticlimactic. She had walked in on him while he was putting away his Kid costume after a heist – apparently Kaito hadn't locked his front door, and he hadn't heard Aoko's footsteps, and he hadn't been expecting Aoko's soft, "Hey, Kaito, I couldn't find you after…" and her gasp, that terrible_awful_quiet_disappointed_ gasp as she saw what he was doing.

At first, Kaito had tried to say something – _anything _– but the words got stuck at the back of his throat, and he couldn't quite bring himself to try to dislodge them. Because after all, what was he supposed to say when his best friend discovered he'd been lying to her for the past five years?

In the painful, too-still silence, Aoko had gone a delicate off-white, her eyes had darkened to inky, fractured blue, and then she had gotten out a strangled, "Never mind," before she'd turned and left. There was no anger – just sad, _sad _disappointment, and that somehow made it much, much worse.

She hadn't been responding to Kaito's texts or calls. Or his voicemails or emails or letters left outside sticking out of her mailboxes. Or his visits to her house or the flowers he sent to her office.

Kaito had even lowered himself enough to call _Hakuba_, just because he knew Hakuba wasn't being shut out like he was (probably due to the fact that Hakuba and Aoko were, you know, engaged and living together and all), and when Kaito actually called _Hakuba _for help, that meant things were bad.

And since calling Hakuba hadn't even been useful in any way ("Aoko-san doesn't want to talk to you." "But –" "She doesn't want _me _to talk to you either, so I'm going to hang up soon." "Hakuba, you are so _whipped_." "It's talking to you or sleeping on the floor, Kuroba-kun. I'm pretty sure I just have my priorities straight." "Wow, Hakuba, I see how much our friendship means to you – hello? Hello?"), Kaito was now short one best friend and his dignity.

So as a last resort, he'd gone out drinking to a bar far, far from Ekoda and his problems, because if nothing was working out right, there was always alcohol, right?

And apparently there was also off-duty detectives who found it necessary to save off-duty thieves from overzealous admirers, Kaito reminded himself as he slid his glass towards the bartender, who took it and replaced it with a new drink wordlessly.

He glanced over his cup at Kudou, whose head was bent over the glass of rum he'd ordered. The detective seemed to be thinking hard, balancing his chin in his hand as he adopted a faraway look in his eyes.

Kaito took the moment to fully appreciate the fact that Kudou Shinichi was actually sitting next to him. Sure, he saw Kudou on a fairly regular basis, but at the same time, Kudou was always a mass of logical determination and calculated stares and smirks that could cut diamonds whenever Kaito saw him at heists.

Now, Kudou was more relaxed. There was a shallow curve to his spine, and the worn leather jacket he was wearing looked soft and pliable as it hung from his shoulders. His ankles were crossed in front of him, bent at the knee to avoid kicking the bar, his legs cutting sharp angles out of dark denim. His slightly overgrown hair curled at the nape of his neck, brushing against the collar of his jacket every now and again.

And there was something very refreshing, Kaito mused as he took a sip of his drink, about seeing Kudou like this, wearing the calm, relaxed part of himself that Kaito wasn't familiar with. Something very soothing, almost… pretty, maybe.

What a thought _that _was. Somehow, Kaito doubted Kudou would appreciate being called pretty_, _and by Kaito, of all people.

But he _was _pretty, somehow simultaneously pretty and rugged – at the very least, good-looking – and Kaito slanted his head as he watched Kudou. He certainly had an odd kind of aesthetic appeal, with that mix of delicate (neck, mouth, hands, eyelashes) and sharp features (eyes, nose, shoulders, jawline) ...

As he traced the angular slope of Kudou's jaw with his eyes, Kaito was, inexplicably, struck with the urge to reach out and touch him, run his fingertips around the curve of Kudou's neck and toy with the little sprig of hair sticking out by his ear, then maybe replace his hands with his lips –

Kudou looked over, startled out of his thoughts, when Kaito nearly overturned his chair. He lifted his eyebrows. "Are you… okay?"

_Oh no, I've just been thinking about how pretty you are and how I want to touch your hair and kiss your neck. I'm perfectly fine._

It was the alcohol. It was definitely the alcohol.

"I'm fine," Kaito muttered instead, tearing his gaze away from Kudou's too-perceptive eyes. He could feel Kudou blinking at him. The thought of Kudou's gaze on him made a slow flush work its way up Kaito's neck.

To distract himself, Kaito took a sip of his drink, running a finger along the rim of the cup idly. His head was beginning to feel too full, too heavy. "You must think I'm pathetic," he remarked, quiet. "To have this kind of problem."

"On the contrary," Kudou replied, and his voice was halfway warm as he turned towards Kaito, opening his shoulders in Kaito's direction. "I went through the exact same thing."

At Kaito's dubious stare, Kudou quickly clarified, "Not that I was ever a phantom thief or anything." He rolled his eyes. "I mean that I had a secret I kept from Ran – you remember her, right? – for a long time, and when she found out, she didn't really react that…" He paused, giving a small cough. "Favorably."

It took Kaito a moment to realize that Kudou was talking about being Conan. His eyes widened. "You actually told Mouri-chan about that?"

"I didn't _tell _her," Kudou answered, almost sullenly. The ice in his glass clinked as if in agreement. "She overheard me talking to Haibara – in case you don't remember, she's the light-haired girl who was also shrunken – and kind of connected the dots." He smiled faintly. It wasn't a remotely happy smile. "I thought she was going to get angry and maybe kick me to death, but she didn't. She just sort of… broke."

Kaito just looked at him, silently encouraging him to go on.

Kudou sighed, leaning back a little. "At first, I kept trying to get her to talk to me, to have a conversation, to discuss everything. So I could make excuses and try to explain away why I'd lied to her for so long." He made a disgruntled sound. "But then I realized that me trying to talk to her wasn't what she wanted. She just wanted time. So I gave it to her."

"How long did you wait?"

"A month." Kudou let his head fall to one side, raking back a handful of his hair. "But then she called me, and we met up for coffee. It was a pretty stilted conversation – neither of us really knew what to say – but we're getting better. It's almost as if nothing happened."

A month. Something heavy sank to the bottom of Kaito's stomach, and he collapsed against the bar with a groan. His head throbbed against the wood. "You're saying I should just... wait?"

"Well, yes." Kudou paused. "Because it's not about the lying, really. It's more about the fact that you didn't trust her enough to tell her about something that was such a big part of you for such a long time. You didn't think your relationship could survive her knowing. She realizes that, and that's what's hurting her, more than anything."

Kaito smirked weakly. "Oh, so you're an expert on human emotion? How unexpected, tantei-kun," he said airily, but even he could hear the gratitude that had crept into his tone. He doubted Kudou would miss it, with the way he read people the same way a normal person might read a mildly interesting magazine article.

"And here I was trying to empathize with you," Kudou hummed, feigning haughtiness, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. He reached for his glass and drained it, lips pink and plush against the curve of the glass.

"You know," Kaito murmured as he watched. He was starting to feel warm underneath his skin – in retrospect, maybe he shouldn't have had that fifth iced tea – and his head felt fuzzy and blurred. All he could really manage to focus on was the detective sitting next to him. The very pretty detective sitting next to him. "You know, Kudou, I'm drunk."

"Seriously?" Kudou glanced at him with concern. "I thought you said you were a heavyweight."

"I am," Kaito agreed, narrowing his eyes at Kudou. "I really am. I'm usually still fine after four drinks."

Kudou's eyebrows climbed his forehead. He cast a pointed look at the half-full glass sitting to the right of Kaito's hand. "Wait, isn't that, like, your sixth?"

"Mm," Kaito responded noncommittally. His elbow slid against the lacquered surface of the counter as he leaned on it, studying Kudou through half-lidded eyes. "Maybe? Wait... you're right. I think it is."

"Um…" Hesitating, Kudou glanced around the bar. "Well, I guess I can call you a cab or something – I don't know the train schedules for this area, after all –"

"I'm drunk," Kaito reiterated, and Kudou shot him a blank, unimpressed look.

"I _may _be wrong, but I _think _we've already established that –"

"I'm drunk, and you're pretty."

For a full minute, Kudou sat gaping at Kaito. "Excuse me?"

"I think," Kaito mused aloud, gaze sweeping over every visible inch of Kudou – Kudou seemed to recoil as he realized that Kaito was giving him an onceover – "that I must be drunk, because you're really pretty right now."

"Only right now?" Kudou muttered sourly, though Kaito didn't miss the surprised tremble of his fingers as he reached for his already empty glass. The barely-there bits of ice fell against his mouth as he tipped the cup back.

"Actually, I'm not sure," Kaito replied, mildly confused. If he thought about it… "I think I might always think you're pretty."

"O… Okay." Kudou set down the glass, then rubbed at the back of his neck with his left hand. Kaito got the feeling that he was feeling uncomfortable. The thought made him smile – he'd managed to discompose the always composed Kudou Shinichi.

Kudou shifted, hopping off his stool to stand. He didn't look at Kaito. "W-Well, I'm going to go… call you a cab, or something. You're clearly drunk."

As he tried to escape, Kaito caught his wrist. "Hey, Shinichi."

That got Kudou's attention. He whipped around, mouth parting, probably to spit out some variant of _who gave you permission to call me by my first name, again?_

But they'd never know what Kudou was going to say, because Kaito cut him off with a swift kiss.

It wasn't a particularly skillful kiss. Kaito's coordination was absolutely shit, and he somehow ended up sliding off his stool and wedging Kudou's arm underneath his and Kudou almost fell backwards. Their mouths slotted together messily; Kaito's bottom lip met Shinichi's front teeth rather forcefully, and their tongues sort of smacked unromantically into each other – but it wasn't a bad kiss. It _couldn't_ be a bad kiss, not when Kudou tasted this sweet and Kaito could feel Kudou's pulse thumping away underneath Kaito's thumb and the inside of Kudou's mouth was this hot and sticky.

Kudou drew back with a gasp. There was pink along the crests of his cheekbones, and his eyes were too bright. "Kid, what the hell?" he choked out, eyes wide as he wiped his lips across the back of his hand.

"Like I said," Kaito answered, grinning uncontrollably – there was something sticky swirling through his veins, and his chest felt the lightest it had in a while – "I'm drunk, and you're always pretty."

Openmouthed, Kudou stared at him for a long, long time - Kaito was almost scared Kudou was about to punch him in the face - before he relaxed into a faint smile. "I seriously don't understand you," he grumbled, but the smile stayed in place. He turned to the bartender, who looked absolutely nonplussed, before throwing down a small stack of thousand yen bills. "Sorry about all this."

"Thank you for coming," the bartender stammered, bowing, and Kudou peered at Kaito as he started for the door.

"You coming, Mr. Phantom Thief?"

Coming out of his stupor – damn, Kudou had nice collarbones – Kaito blinked. "Huh?"

Giving a sigh of longsuffering, Kudou folded his arms across his chest. "I'm going to be a good person and get you home."

Kaito stared for a moment before he smirked. "So you're not just always pretty, you're also a good person?"

Kudou paused to consider. "Yes. Now shut up and tell me where you live."

"With pleasure."

So maybe, Kaito thought as he followed Kudou's back out of the bar and into the cool night air, he should start going to bars with the intention of meeting Kudou Shinichi more often.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah... does this feel complete? I kind of can't tell. I don't have a very clear idea of where I would take this <em>if <em>I happened to continue it, so for now, I'm just going to mark it as complete.**

**Well, please consider dropping me a review if you enjoyed this in any capacity, and I'll see you all soon, my darlings! - Luna**


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